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1.1.4-Some-stars
brick club: 1.1.4 So I have been reading along with Brick Club, not expecting to actually post anything much, and I still don’t expect to post anything much but apparently I have things to say today! This chapter seems pretty straightforward—Works Corresponding to Words, more about how the Bishop is the greatest guy ever and is basically a saint, etc. But reading it for the second time—specifically, reading it after having read “The Bishop In The Presence Of An Unfamiliar Light,” the chapter with G——- the old convention member, is a very different experience. Starting with the part where he talks about the tax on doors and windows, and the general misfortunes of the poor: (all quotes from Hapgood even though I’m reading the FMA this time, because typing stuff up from a fat paperback is a gigantic pain in the ass) (also they are not indented because Tumblr is also a gigantic pain in the ass and won’t let me) "…And this arises from a thing which is called the tax on doors and windows. Just put poor families, old women and little children, in those buildings, and behold the fevers and maladies which result! Alas! God gives air to men; the law sells it to them. I do not blame the law, but I bless God. In the department of the Isere, in the Var, in the two departments of the Alpes, the Hautes, and the Basses, the peasants have not even wheelbarrows; they transport their manure on the backs of men; they have no candles, and they burn resinous sticks, and bits of rope dipped in pitch. That is the state of affairs throughout the whole of the hilly country of Dauphine. They make bread for six months at one time; they bake it with dried cow-dung. In the winter they break this bread up with an axe, and they soak it for twenty-four hours, in order to render it eatable. My brethren, have pity! behold the suffering on all sides of you!" Now, the first time around I didn’t take too much notice of this. But rereading it this time I found myself getting surprisingly angry at him, and seizing on one part: “I do not blame the law.” And he doesn’t; we see this in the later chapter with G—-, where he blames the people who do blame the law, and try to change it. The bishop gives away thousands of francs to the poor, and some of it is for education and prison reform and things that might actually address the causes of suffering, but mostly his approach is about charity. He tells people to “have pity”, and he is full of pity and compassion—and believe me, when we get to the parts with Valjean I will be overflowing with praise for this guy, because he’s incredible in a lot of ways. But he has no interest in structural change that might actually create a world where no one has to bake bread with dung. And when he talks with G—- (and I’ll hopefully make a post about this in more detail when we get there), his sympathies are entirely with the aristocrats and royalty. Then we have the part where the bishop witnesses an execution, and is bothered by it: Therefore, the impression was terrible and profound; on the day following the execution, and on many succeeding days, the Bishop appeared to be crushed. The almost violent serenity of the funereal moment had disappeared; the phantom of social justice tormented him. He, who generally returned from all his deeds with a radiant satisfaction, seemed to be reproaching himself. At times he talked to himself, and stammered lugubrious monologues in a low voice. This is one which his sister overheard one evening and preserved: “I did not think that it was so monstrous. It is wrong to become absorbed in the divine law to such a degree as not to perceive human law. Death belongs to God alone. By what right do men touch that unknown thing?” In course of time these impressions weakened and probably vanished. Nevertheless, it was observed that the Bishop thenceforth avoided passing the place of execution. "The phantom of social justice tormented him." This idea, social justice, is alien to the bishop, it has nothing to do with why he’s so charitable and compassionate. Justice is not his concern, and I think Hugo clearly indicts him for this, in this passage where his newfound convictions "weakened and probably vanished," and in the G—- chapter. It’s a level of complexity I didn’t notice at first when I was first reading. Commentary Kingedmundsroyalmurder I can never decide if Hugo is condemning the Bishop or just making the point that one man can’t change a corrupt system. (Which probably means that I’m not reading carefully enough because Hugo doesn’t bother being subtle about anything most of the time.) But the Bishop definitely has his blind spots, especially in the chapter with G, as you pointed out. He does come from aristocracy and he is in a position of privilege, for all that he chooses not to exercise it. In a way the Bishop is kind of like Marius, in that his poverty is chosen rather than forced, which changes one’s outlook on things I suspect. Anyway, yes, there is definitely the idea that systemic change can’t come from one person, no matter how well meaning that person might be (Enjolras, I’m looking at you here). And I don’t know if the Bishop’s refusal to even attempt change on a systemic level comes from realizing this or just from his own position of privilege and personal philosophy of life. Smokefall AHA! There was something about the Bishop’s reaction to the guillotine that was bothering me and I couldn’t put my finger on it, but this nails it. I’m a day late on Brick Club because I lost most of yesterday to brain gremlins, sigh. Hoping I can catch up tonight.